


The House

by Stomiidae



Series: The Drabble/Short Story Series [6]
Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: But neither of them can leave, For reasons, Here is what was written so far, House weirdness, I forgot a plot thread, Jimmy lives, M/M, edgar lives, my bad - Freeform, oops i did it again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 18:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15395037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stomiidae/pseuds/Stomiidae
Summary: Jimmy is salivating for the day Nny comes back. Edgar wants the house to spit him out the way he was presumably dragged in, as a whole goddamn person.





	The House

House

 

P1

 

Jimmy wonders if Edgar realizes that he sounds and looks like one of those mothers in a lifetime special trying to explain to her children why their father isn't around anymore.

 

Not that Jimmy feels like a child, or even is one, but Edgar is keeping secrets from him, Johnny related ones. And that chafes a bit, that Edgar would rather spend hours staring out the living room window than tell him anything about where the fuck Nny went.

 

His mother had loved those goddamn lifetime specials. She'd watch them for hours while his dad was at work, fixated on the sad circumstances of the single mother storyline. She'd revel in the fantasy of it, would talk to Jimmy as if the two of them were the only two people in their world left standing. Until eight o'clock rolled around.

 

She eventually snuck out one night and never looked back. His dad never struggled to explain that, or anything he thought was frivolous and emotional.

 

“I don't think he was happy” Edgar says in bed one night. “I'm not sure if he ever will be.”

 

“But he didn't say anything?” Jimmy hissed, squinting into the pitch black of their bedroom. “No clue about if he might come back, or where the fuck he was going?”

 

To be fair Johnny hadn't said anything to Jimmy about why he was leaving either. Jimmy had woken up and seen him in the doorway of his then personal bedroom scrutinizing it with its band posters and clothes strewn about. That night, the night Nny disappeared, he'd  crawled into Jimmy's bed and while Jimmy was still half asleep had muttered things to him about the house, about people outside if it. It was the closest Johnny had ever gotten to him, physically.

 

“Put some goddamn underwear on.”

 

Edgar didn't care if he slept naked but Johnny had been disturbed by it. Had pulled away from Jimmy's sleepy, grabby hands and shoved the closest thing he could snatch off if the floor at him.

 

So Jimmy had put the wrinkled shirt on, groaning the whole time. He’d dozed off again, waiting for Johnny to slip back in beside him but instead had woken up the next morning wondering if the whole thing was a dream that he'd half dressed himself for.

 

He'd walked into the livingroom a little while later to see Edgar drinking straight black coffee alone instead of trying to coax Nny to eat.

 

Edgar's breaths are deep and rhythmic, his skin warm and tacky from dried sweat. Jimmy keeps his face pressed into him even as he hears something out in the house shift and move. Hope flares in his chest along with something hungry and wanting. He's naked again and this time due to the change in bedroom status Edgar is as well, so he yanks their blanket up to their necks. The bitter part of him hopes Johnny is horrified that they would become this, or at least that Edgar would stoop to fucking him. The rest of him wants the sensation of him crawling into bed beside Jimmy again, too caught up in his own dysfunction to immediately notice the cum on Jimmy's stomach or the bite marks on Edgar's neck. He wants to see _him_ eventually nod off then hilariously react to their disheveled states in the morning.

 

So he listens and he waits.


End file.
